|
When you see a hearse go by |
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You know you're about the next to die |
|
They put you in a dirty white sheet |
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And bury you under six feet deep |
|
Everything goes well about a week |
|
Until your coffin starts to leak |
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Your teeth fall in your eyes fall out |
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Ants play pinochle on your goul (sp?) |
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Everything goes well so it may seem |
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Until your eyes turn slimy green |
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And pus comes out like whipping cream |
|
You slap it on a piece of bread |
|
That's what you eat when you're fuckin' dead |
|
Destined to rot |
|
Destined to rot |
|
Destined to rot |
|
When you see a hearse go by |
|
You know you're about the next to die |
|
They put you in a dirty white sheet |
|
And bury you under six feet deep |
|
Everything goes well about a week |
|
Until your coffin starts to leak |
|
Your teeth fall in your eyes fall out |
|
Ants play pinochle on your goul |
|
Everything goes well so it may seem |
|
Until your eyes turn slimy green |
|
And pus comes out like whipping cream |
|
You slap it on a piece of bread |
|
That's what you eat when you're fuckin' dead |